Dreaming of the Future
by unofficialfansie
Summary: When Anya and Dmitry arrive in the United States, what will become of them and their dreams? Crossover based on the Broadway musicals.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

 **Hola! Como estás? Yo estoy bien, y muy emocionado para compartir esta historia con ustedes. Okay, I'll stop now. (Even though I'm fluent. Fun fact. I might write fanfiction in Spanish one day. *le shrug*) ANYWAY, I wrote a crossover! Yay! Let me explain the timeline real quick, in case you care. Or even if you don't. So, Anastasia takes place in 1920 (approximately) and this takes place a year after in 1921. For the purposes of everyone not being super old, I moved the strike up to take place in 1920 as well, so I guess this is an AU. One more thing, these chapters are pretty short, so I will be posting two at a time. I think that's all the announcements, so please enjoy!**

I stand on the deck of the boat, a warm breeze rustling through my hair. Dmitry stands beside me, holding my hand as we both look up at the Statue of Liberty with equal parts wonder and excitement. I feel like I did when we arrived in Paris a year ago, like my whole life is ahead of me. After what seems like an eternity the boat docks at Ellis Island, and we watch the first and second class passengers disembark. When our turn finally comes, I make my way down the gangplank, my feet wobbling as soon as I touch dry land. Luckily Dmitry is right behind me, he steadies me so I don't fall into the mud. "Thank you," I say, and he smiles at me before hurrying towards the immigration building. "Come on, Anya!" he shouts over his shoulder, and I laugh as I run to catch up to him. His excitement is infectious.

We only have two small bags between us, so we aren't required to leave them in the baggage room. We still have to wait in line for hours though, and endure examinations by doctors to make sure we don't have any contagious diseases and can work. When those are finally finished, we stand in another line for a few more hours only to be questioned by immigration officials. They're particularly suspicious of us since we're Russian, but eventually we convince them we're not Communists, only people looking for a new start in life. They give us pieces of paper with the words _Landing Card_ printed on them, and explain that they are ferry tickets to the mainland. When we at last board the ferry, I look at Dmitry with a nervous smile on my face. He smiles back and squeezes my hand, as if to reassure me. Taking a deep breath, I look towards the land that is rushing closer and closer to us with every passing second. Our new life awaits.


	2. Chapter 2

We walk down the crowded street, gawking at all the activity. Vendors call out their wares, newsboys shout headlines on street corners, and everywhere people talk and laugh. "We should find someplace to stay before dark," Dmitry says to me, scanning the streets. I nod, looking around too. Suddenly, I hear a voice behind me. "'Scuse me, miss. Care ta buy a pape?" I turn around to see a newsboy with dirty blonde hair and dirt on his face holding out a newspaper. "No, thank you," I answer politely. His eyebrows raise at my accent, and I blush, suddenly self-conscious. "You new here?" he asks, his words thickened by a heavy New York accent. I nod, and he turns towards another newsboy selling on a corner opposite him. "'Ey Romeo! Get over here!" The boy across the street looks up, then quickly crosses to our side. I suppress a giggle as I realize that this boy has the same name as my childhood horse. "What's wrong, Race? I was just about ta sell a pape!" The other boy, Race, rolls his eyes. "Sure, kid." Dmitry nudges me with his arm, a confused look on his face. "Что происходит?" "Они спросили, хотим ли мы купить газету," I answer, and turn back to Race and Romeo, who are looking at us with confused expressions. "He wanted to know what was going on," I translate, and Race nods before turning to Romeo. "Rome, where's that boardin' house where Jack lives?" "34th street, I think," Romeo answers, before turning to me and shrugging. "It ain't fancy, but it's clean and our buddy Jack seems ta like it." I smile at him, then turn back to Dmitry, who's watching our exchange intently, looking perplexed. "Они сказали, что поблизости находится пансионат," I tell him, and he nods, giving the boys a small smile. "Thank you," he says, one of the few phrases he learned while we were living in England. The boys nod, before turning away and going back to selling their newspapers. I smile at Dmitry, taking his arm as we continue on our way, bound for a boarding house on 34th street.

 **Что происходит?-What's happening?**

 **Они спросили, хотим ли мы купить газету-They asked if we want to buy a newspaper.**

 **Они сказали, что поблизости находится пансионат-They said that there is a boarding house nearby.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

 **Here are the next chapters! Just letting you know, these move kind of slow but rest assured that things will pick up soon.**

After hours of walking through the city, we finally locate an old redbrick building with a sign in its window. _Rooms to let. Inquire within._ Dmitry and I both look at each other, then hurry up the front steps. It's already dusk, and something tells me this isn't the sort of place where you want to be wandering around after dark. Reaching the top of the stairs Dmitry tries the door, which swings open easily. "After you," he grins. I step into the dimly lit front hall with him close behind, and immediately look around for some sign of life. "How can I help you?" We whirl around, and see that an old woman has materialized in front of us. I clear my throat. "We'd like a room, please." The woman nods, reaching in her pocket and pulling out a tarnished key. "1 dollar a week rent, meals included. 50 cents extra for laundry services." I turn to Dmitry, who has our money. "Один доллар и пятьдесят центов." He nods, then pulls out a crisp bill and a few coins, depositing them into the woman's hand. She hands me the key, smiling a gap-toothed smile. "Up the stairs, two doors down on your right." I thank her, turning towards the stairs and beginning to climb them, Dmitry following close behind.

Our room is small but clean, just like Romeo said it would be. A double bed stands against one wall, with a wash stand and wardrobe next to it. A table and two chairs are pushed against the opposite wall, and a lamp sits on the table. Dmitry and I set our bags down on the floor, then glance at each other. "This is it. Our new life," I say, and Dmitry grins, sweeping me up off the ground and twirling me in a circle. I laugh as he sets me down, picking up my bag and going over to the wardrobe. "Come on, let's unpack." He nods, picking up his bag and coming over to the wardrobe too. "I'll look for a job tomorrow," he announces as we hang our things up, and I look at him in suprise. "I thought you said you wanted to learn more English before you applied for a job." He shrugs. "I knew enough English in England to get a job, I can get one here. Besides, we need the money." I nod, remembering how I often resorted to stealing just to get by back in Russia. That's not something I want to repeat here. "I'll look for a job, too," I announce, hanging the last shirt and closing the wardrobe. "That way we can save up more money." Dmitry nods, then pulls me in for a kiss. "I'm tired, immigration is exhausting." I laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed. "We should go to sleep soon." Dmitry sits next to me, taking his shoes off and running a hand through his hair, then flopping backwards onto the bed. I imitate his gesture, then move closer to him and lay my head on his chest. Somehow we manage to fall asleep like that, together in a strange room in a strange land, not knowing what tomorrow will bring.

 **Один доллар и пятьдесят центов-One dollar and fifty cents.**


	4. Chapter 4

The sound of carriages and carts rattling down the street wakes me early the next morning, and I sit up slowly. Dmitry is still asleep next to me, and the rest of the house seems quiet as well. Standing I stretch, then splash water on my face from the wash stand. Turning, I poke Dmitry in the side. "Come on, sleeping beauty. Time to wake up." He groans and rolls over, pressing a pillow over his head. I shake my head, laughing softly, then open the wardrobe and select a blouse and skirt to wear. By the time I've dressed and brushed my hair, Dmitry has woken himself up and is pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt. Slipping on my shoes, I open the door and step into the hallway only to run straight into a man carrying a tall stack of papers. "I'm so sorry!" I cry as papers scatter everywhere. "Here, let me help you." "Thanks," the man says, his voice carrying a slight hint of a New York accent as well. I gather as many papers as I can, carefully placing them back in his arms. He looks up as he places the last few sheets on top of the pile, and I get a good look at him. He's an average height, with dark brown hair and eyes. His arms, which are gripping the stack of papers tightly now, are muscular, suggesting that he's no stranger to hard work. He studies me too, taking in every detail with an artist's eye. "You new here?" he asks, and I nod. "Just arrived yesterday." He smiles, then reaches out his hand for me to shake. "Jack Kelly, at your service." I smile back, taking his hand. This must be the same Jack Race and Romeo were talking about yesterday. "Anya." Just then, Dmitry comes to the door of our room, now fully dressed. "Кто это?" "Jack Kelly," I answer, then turn back to Jack. "This is my husband, Dmitry." Jack shakes Dmitry's hand, then turns back to me. "Well, I guess I'll see ya around." I nod, and he disappears down the stairs. Turning back to Dmitry, I take his hand. "Come on. Let's go get some breakfast."

 **Кто это-Who is this?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**

 **Whoa, I'm actually updating this. Sorry this update took so long, but I've been working on a lot of other stories lately. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!**

After a simple breakfast of oatmeal and coffee Dmitry and I step out of the boarding house and onto the street, which has come alive with the sights and smells of the city. We buy a newspaper from a newsboy wearing glasses who's selling on a nearby corner, and flip to the back to examine the classifieds. There are all sorts of jobs listed, people looking for laundresses and maids, plumbers and laborers. I quickly scan the pages, pausing when I see an ad for a shoe factory looking for workers. "What about working in a shoe factory?" I ask Dmitry, pointing at the ad so he can see what I'm talking about. He nods, squinting slightly as he tries to decipher the words. "Where is it?" he asks me, and I look at the bottom of the ad where the adress is listed. "29 Ludlow Street," I answer, ripping the ad from the page and circling the adress. "I guess I should get going," Dmitry says and I nod, though I'm slightly uneasy about sending him out into an unfamiliar city alone. He must see the worry in my face because he smiles reassuringly and kisses me gently on the forehead. "I'll be fine, Anya. Meet you back here at the end of the day?" I nod again and smile, and Dmitry sets off down the street. I watch him go, then look back down at the newspaper. Time for me to find a job. I look through all of the ads listed until one in particular catches my eye. Wanted: Maid for light housework. No experience necessary. 11 East 73rd Street. Smiling to myself I tear out the ad and slip it into my pocket, throw the newspaper into a nearby garbage can and begin walking in the direction of 73rd street. I have a long way to go.


	6. Chapter 6

When I finally reach the adress written on the advertisement I stand on the street in front of it, staring up at the white stone structure feeling out of place and small. Eventually I snap out of my daze and make my way down an alley at the side of the house until I reach the back door. I softly knock, smoothing my hair and straightening my skirt. After a minute the door swings open, revealing a stern looking older woman wearing a simple black dress, her gray hair pulled up into a neat bun. "Can I help you?" she asks. "I'm here about the job as a maid," I say, and she looks me over like a piece of meat. Finally she nods, and gestures for me to come inside. I hesitantly follow her, my heart hammering in my chest.

"What's your name?" the woman, whose name turned out to be Mrs. Smith, asks. "Anya Pavlovich," I answer and she nods, making a note on the pad of paper she has in front of her. "Any experience working as a maid?" I shake my head. "I worked as a street sweeper for a while, and then I worked in a women's clothing factory after that." "And where was that?" Mrs. Smith asks, eyeing me. "Russia and England," I say, my cheeks burning. Mrs. Smith looks me over again, then nods as she stands. "You'll do. You'll be paid 5 dollars a week. Be here bright and early tomorrow morning, and be sure to wear something nice," she says, glancing dissaprovingly at my skirt which is covered in dust from the walk here. I nod again as she shows me out, shutting the door firmly behind me. I stand there for a moment, a little dazed, then give myself a little shake and start walking home. I got the job, that's all that matters.

 **A/N: That's that! A quick note about Anya's last name, as you may have noticed Anya and Dmitry are married in this story, so Anya would probably take his last name. However, his last name is never stated in the musical, so I kind of had to make one up. Basically, there was this real historical person named Dmitri Pavlovich who was a distant cousin of the real life Anastasia, and I used his last name. Now that that's out of the way, please review and let me know what you thought!**


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